


not important at the time

by LunaD



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Gen, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, albeit lowkey, that trope where a character doesnt realize they're hurt until after the battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25382362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaD/pseuds/LunaD
Summary: After their first battle with the Shredder. Not all the brothers managed to get through the ordeal unscathed.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 174





	1. Chapter 1

When it had started to rain, Raphael began to lose hope. It had been a few hours since they first started their fight with Shredder in the baseball field. With each fight it had become increasingly harder to encourage his brothers. Each fight he reminded them, _just a little longer, just enough to buy Leo and pops some more time._

Raphael had wanted nothing more than to usher his brothers home. Instead he had to steel himself as he ignored their beaten and bruised bodies, commanding them to get up and give everything they had each time.

Then the night ended as abruptly as it had began.

Raphael could hardly believe it. One moment they were fighting a raging demon in armor, its sharp claws and blurring speed almost overwhelming them several times, the next it was being sucked into a strange artifact by Leonardo.

By the time that Big Mama had scooped up the glowing artifact and retreated into her portal, all five of them were ready to collapse. It wasn’t until her portal completely closed that Raphael finally allowed himself to. He collapsed onto the wet concrete with his brothers, all of them one long enough blink away from passing out. 

“Is everyone alright?” He heard their father ask. Splinter looked to each of his sons, all too exhausted to properly answer. Instead they half haphazardly waved their hand, lifting it up to make janky thumbs-up signs. Splinter sighed, pushing them to the manhole. April gave a quick goodbye as she left, fully intending to fall into a coma as soon as she got home. The rest of them made their way down the manhole, trying to concentrate what little energy they had left into not falling down the ladder. One by one they filed in, groaning at their protesting muscles. 

Mikey peered down at his brother, finally taking a moment to whistle at his new digs. “Man Leo, looking slick with that Lu Jitsu jumper.”

Although clearly worn out, Leonardo leaned off the ladder to let his younger sibling take in the view. “Pretty sweet right? Even got dad a rad upgrade to match. I think I might make this my new signature look.”

“Knock it off Leo,” Raphael commanded wearily, “keep moving before you slip off and-” Raphael stopped immediately, his total focus on the turtle underneath Leo. Raphael and Splinter were on the left side ladder, and his three brothers parallel to them on the right. The turtle on the rung under Leo was Donatello, who had been oddly quiet since their fight had ended. The reason his sentence was cut short was because the turtle in question had slipped off his own hold, beginning to freefall below. 

“Donnie!” Raphael managed to get out as he reached out towards his brother. His larger frame gave him advantage, his hands curling around one of his elbow pads, only for it to slip off along with his hold. Raphael felt his heart sink down with his brother as the realization hit him. Suddenly a pink limb shot out from beside Raphael’s head, wrapping around Donatello’s wrist tightly. His brother’s form snapped, and Raphael heard his father’s outcry from above him. He looked up in time to catch Splinter as he, too, slipped. 

There was a few seconds of confused silence before they all called out to their brother again. Donatello didn’t stir, increasing the anxiety in his brothers. Quickly they made their way down the ladder, silent as all thoughts turned towards Don. Now at the bottom, safely on the ground in the sewer, the four surrounded their family member. Splinter placed his hand on his son’s face, hoping to stir him into consciousness with his voice. “Purple, are you alright?”

Donatello’s eyes squinted open as blackness receded from his view. His face was incredibly pale, and with each breath he felt a sharpness in his lungs. “What...happened?”

Leonardo moved his father out of the way, filling Donnie’s vision as he spoke. “What happened was you decided to take a nosedive down the ladder!”

Donatello moved his head to his left, the voice of Mikey stealing his attention. “You really scared us Dee, are you okay?”

Donatello moved to sit up, eliciting several concerned comments from his family. He felt Raphael’s hand on the back of his shell, offering support. The pressure caused his back to spasm through the ruined battle shell, causing Donatello to cry out in pain. Immediately Raphael withdrew his hand, questioning Donatello further. 

“Don are you injured?” Raphael could properly see now the extent of damage on his brother’s battle armor. The deep gouges shredded the metal like it was butter. He could see deep inside the tech, wires and intricate electrical panels rendered useless. Although it could have just been the dark lighting of the sewers, Raphael swore he saw a tinge of blood on the metal folds. His face fell, a sudden thought dawning on him in horror. “Don’t tell me Shredder actually managed to cut all the way to your shell?”

The other three stared at Raphael in shock at his revelation, before Donatello released a shaky, frightened breath. “I-I think he did.” 

At once Raphael was standing, moving in front of his brother so that he could see his face. “Donnie, that was hours ago! Why didn’t you say anything?”

Donatello didn’t hesitate as he met his brother’s gaze. “We had more important things to attend to. We couldn’t exactly take a break while fighting the Shredder, it wouldn’t have helped if you guys had known at the time. Distracting the Shredder until Leo returned was more important.”

Raphael gawked, “Wouldn’t have-”

Before he could retort, he felt his father's hand at his chest, holding him back. “Red, he is right. It was a wise choice.” Splinter turned his eyes to Donatello, adding, “Albeit a stupid choice, it ensured the aprehention of the Shredder. Your focus remained on battle instead of your brother.”

“Don, how bad is it?” Leo moved to peer at his brother’s back. His hands hovered over the sharp ridges of the shell, unsure what to do.

Donatello tilted forward more, his energy quickly draining. “I don’t know, maybe not too bad? I won’t know for sure til I take the Battle Shell off.”

“Well what are we standing around here for? Let’s get you home and that thing off of you.”

Raphael hoisted his brother up, using one strong arm to offer support. It would be impossible to carry his brother back without the motion jostling his tender injuries further. Instead they opted to support Don on either side, ensuring he wouldn’t fall from another fainting spell. By the time they entered the lair, they were practically dragging their brother.

His face had lost its color and his voice was slightly slurred. His jaw clenched in pain as sweat speckled his forehead. His body shook slightly as they eased him into the kitchen. There, Splinter grabbed the medical supplies from the cupboard as his sons made themselves useful. They placed Donatello on a chair, straddling it to offer them access to his back.

Mikey placed a soft pillow between him and the back of the chair, to which Donatello’s exhausted face flopped into gratefully. Raph placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Alright Donnie, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get you some pain meds and into bed.”

Donnie sighed, simply nodding as he wearily moved to release his outer shell. The machine hissed and whirred, unlocking from his body with a click. Raphael had gently placed his hands at the base of it, ready to ease it away from his brother so it didn’t tear into him as it fell away. Instead, however, he was met with resistance. Puzzled, Raphael attempted to pull it.

Donatello cried out at the sudden sharp pain. A desperate whine filling the room as he repeated for him to stop. Everyone in the room froze. Donatello squeezed his grip firmly against the bars of the chair, his green skin turning white as they shook. Raphael looked at his father in concern, no longer wanting to be in the position he was in. 

Mikey moved to his brother’s side, moving his hands over his brother’s. “Dee it’s okay, just like a bandaid, alright?”Donatello met his brother’s large and loving eyes, his own a mix of fear and pain. The pain made the bile in his throat threaten to surface, so instead he nodded his head. Mikey smiled softly to him, quietly counting, “One, two-” 

Splinter turned to Raphael, nodding silently for his son to continue. Raphael bit his lip as he pulled the metal mess from his brother, the scream sending a cold shiver down his body. He closed his eyes as he did, only to feel something warm on his leg. He looked down to see blood, and at the scrap metal in his hands. Instantly he regretted it.

His brother’s battle shell was torn through. He could see the fridge through it. Not only that, but he could also see the blood drying on the other side. Some of the metal had folded inwards, pushing out of it’s form in jagged shapes laced with red. He turned back to his brother, realizing that these sharp edges had embedded themselves inside him. 

No wonder it had hurt just to breathe. Keeping the battle shell on had inadvertently stopped most of the bleeding, but now that he had dislodged it, the damage to it had resurfaced. Donatello’s scream had faded as quickly as it had appeared, and Raphael realized that Donatello had passed out. His slumped body rested against the kitchen chair, his wounds already soaking the cushion beneath him. 

Splinter had taken his place, unfurling the large gauze roll as Leonardo wiped away the blood. Raphael felt himself staring at his brother’s wounds, the image ingraining itself into his mind. There was a pronounced claw mark taking up most of the area, the outer sections littered with gouges from the metal body of his shell. 

Raphael realized morbidly that Don’s tech had saved his life. He glanced back, remembering a bit disturbingly that he was still holding the piece in his hands. He dropped it with a sudden clatter, stepping away from it. He turned back to see Leonardo at his side, towel in hand. With nothing but a knowing look, Leo handed Raphael a damp cloth to clean their brother’s blood from him.

When he finished, he heard his father call to him. “Red, help bring Purple to his room. Lay him on his stomach. We’ll have to watch him until the bleeding stops.”

Raphael set the now reddened cloth on the counter, turning to help gently carry his brother to his bed. The rest of the family followed, not yet calmed from the ordeal.

Mikey tried to quiet his sniffling as he followed after. “Is he going to be okay?”

Leo tried to smile to his sibling, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Don’t worry bro,” Leo slung his arm around Mikey’s neck, “knowing Ol’ Donnie he’ll survive out of pure spite.”

Mikey still smiled, appreciating the effort from his brother. The moment was short lived though, as Raph gingerly placed Donatello on his stomach on the bed. His torso was completely covered in bandages, red already beginning to peek through the mess. His face was still pale, and his breathing was shallow. The brother’s wrung their hands in worry, turning to their father for comfort. 

Splinter closed his eyes, stilling his own tumerlous emotions as a parent. He placed his hand on Donatello’s head, removing his goggles so that he could gently rub his son’s scalp. “As long as the bleeding stops, he will recover. For now we must wait.”

Even though there was nothing they could do, none of them felt like leaving for the remainder of the day. Instead, they sat by the bed, encircling Donatello as they waited. At first they were quiet, too tired to speak, but eventually their thoughts turned back to their passed out brother. Leonardo was the first to speak, reminiscing about a simpler time with Donatello. Their childhood had many wonderful moments, and it wasn’t long before each of them were retelling a tale or two involving their brother. 


	2. Chapter 2

Donatello wasn’t sure if it was the grating hot dryness in his throat, or the intense ball of pain radiating from deep in his shell that had him waking up first. Nevertheless, he peeled his eyes open, the crusty dry tears feeling like glue against his skin. There was a soft light on in the hall, the door to his room opened enough to light the area. 

It was quiet, and Donatello felt so out of it he almost didn’t recognize where he was. He tried to move his tongue, to swallow any saliva he could manage to get down his dry throat. The action just ended in a fit of coughing as the overwhelming tickle in the back of his mouth urged him. He wished he could stop as soon as he started though, as the motion used all the muscles in his abdomen, rocking the torn skin attached.

His brother was on him in an instant, his voice absent of its normal sass. At once there was a coldness on his face and something poking at his lips. He looked down to see a straw connected to a glass of water. Donatello had never felt so happy to see the clear liquid in his life. He greedily sucked it down, allowing his brother to replace the warm rag on his head with the cool one. 

He pulled away from the straw, attempting to speak to Leonardo. His voice caught in his throat, ending up an incoherent squeak of air instead. Leo simply shushed him, cooing as he rubbed his hand along his shoulder. 

“Just lie still bro. Dad doesn’t think you busted anything too bad, but he said your ribs are bruised pretty badly. Just take it easy okay?”

The water had felt like life blood to Donatello, and the comforting hand rubbing up and down his arm distracted him from the uncomfortable feeling pulsing a deep ache in his bones. He must have fallen asleep soon after because when he woke up again, it was to Raphael’s murmuring.

Donatello grumbled, feeling much more like himself. “Why is everyone in my room.”

Raphael gawked at him, his eyes shining with tears as his brother’s graveled voice pierced the room. Both him and Mikey were at his side, practically smothering him in joy. “Donnie it’s so good to see you awake!”

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Water? Meds?”

Despite himself Don felt an uncomfortable wave of turmoil rise deep inside him. He groaned, shifting as his stiff bones cracked. Instantly four hands were on him, supporting him with questions.

“Are you sure you should be moving?”

“Maybe we should get Pops?”

Donatello ignored them, pushing himself up off the bed. His brothers gave in to the decision, and ran to throw as many pillows as they could into the corner of the bed. Donatello practically became swaddled in packed fluff, his body sinking into the false cloud. He sighed, closing his eyes as his body relaxed in the new position. 

There was a heavy silence, and Don could feel the stares of his brothers boring into him. He snapped to them, feeling angry. They both were just standing there, waiting for him to ask for something, eyes full of that knowing look. A look Donatello couldn’t stand.

“I’m not an invalid! I don’t need you to hang around me, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

Raphael stepped closer to the bed, challenging his brother to look at him instead of the wall beside him. He moved to say something but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked down to see Mikey, a sad but understanding look on his face. He simply shook his head and walked out the door. Raph sighed, following Mikey’s lead to give his brother space.

Donatello felt a war of emotions inside him. He didn’t understand what he was supposed to feel, or why he did. He should be grateful to the lengths his family goes to care for him, but he felt irritated, and sad. Worst point was, he didn’t know why. True to form his family left him alone for the remainder of the day. It gave Donatello enough time with his thoughts to finally pick apart and compartmentalize his feelings. He still felt shaky and anxious even though he knew he should feel safe. 

He balled up his fists, frustrated that he couldn’t solve the puzzle of his own head. His back was starting to itch and sting again, and against his better judgement, he decided to tear away the dressings. He tentatively slid off the bed, focused on making sure his knees didn’t buckle under him. He forgot, however, that sliding off meant his gauze would catch on the fabric, eliciting a pained cry from him.

Thankfully he didn’t fall. After a moment to compose himself, Donatello made his way over to the mirror. He studied himself for a bit, noting how unpleasant he looked. His face was puffy, eyes sunken, and none too healthy. His entire torso was wrapped in white, the gauze reaching up and over his shoulder in support. He reached for the end, grasping it tightly as he yanked it away. 

The process was long and annoying. Whoever had last changed his bandages sure went overkill. Eventually he got to the inner layer, the red tinge sticking out in the contrast of white. Slowly, he pulled it away, peeling it from the wound. It stuck in certain places, parts of the wound that hadn’t fully scabbed over. He hissed, pulled them gently so as to not cause more bleeding. 

Finally, the last of the gauze fell away to his feet, a cascade of white encircling his feet on the floor. He turned in the mirror, noting the many deep purple bruises littering his body. The angle was awkward, but Donatello turned, craning his neck over his shoulder to see the extent of damage. He felt himself begin to shake as the prominent claw marks came into view. 

They raked across his shell in criss-cross fashion, and the memory from the docks sprang up in his mind. He could feel the terror again as the beast had him pinned, swiping away his protective tech like it was nothing. The tears were scabbed over and red, the skin around it puffy and inflamed. The claw marks themselves weren’t all too deep, the look of it was much worse than the actual damage. 

The gouges surrounding them were a different matter. From where the Shredder had pierced his Battle Shell, parts of the metal that was meant to protect him, instead had harmed him. He noticed a few must have been fairly deep, as black stitches lined some. He didn’t realize how queasy he felt until his vision started to tunnel. 

He moved a shaky hand to the mirror, supporting himself as he turned back to the bed. His first step caught on the mess of gauze, causing him to panic as his leg buckled under him. He hit the ground hard, his hands catching the side of the bed as he fell. The bed offered no support as the blanket covering it only fell with the turtle. He cried out, both in surprise and the pain caused by the jerking of his wounds. 

Unfortunately, the face first impact, initiated by the catching of his foot, was all too similar to Donatello. Against his better judgement, he curled his arms over his head protectively. He could feel it. He could feel _him_. The claws swiping against him, boring deeper into his defenses with each swipe. The immeasurable strength of that thing tearing apart everything that made him feel important, that made him feel useful. All of it was destroyed in an instant. None of his tech even scratched the Shredder, in fact he acted like it was simply made of paper. Suddenly its name felt apropos.

“Donnie?”

The sudden voice was enough to jar him from the horrifying flashback. He looked up, unable to identify the owner through the ringing in his own ears. Before him crouched a concerned Leo, a tray of food forgotten as it was thrown beside him. “What happened?”

Don felt his brother’s hands move to him, but the touch only overwhelmed him further. He yelled, pulling away instantly. “Don’t touch me!”

His brother retracted, confused, as his brother scuttled away from him. He curled in on himself, turning away as he grabbed the blanket. He draped it around himself, feeling suddenly exposed. He cursed his unkempt composure, struggling to quiet his breaths and still his booming heart. Leo scooted closer, still giving his brother enough space.

“Donnie it’s okay, the Shredder is gone. We won. He can’t hurt any of us any more.” 

“You think I don’t know that?!” Leo flinched. Donatello had tears in his eyes, he looked furious. He pulled the blanket closer to himself, starting at the ground as he continued. “I know he’s gone. I know there’s nothing I should be afraid of, I know my injuries aren’t even that bad, so why…” Donnie grit his teeth, feeling the tears start to overflow. “So why do I still feel like this?”

Leo was quiet. He moved slowly to his brother, pulling his neck forward in a gentle hug. His voice mimicked the softness of his touch. “Just because it’s over, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Your body is just trying to catch up with itself. And that takes time.”

“It’s not even that bad. Everyone’s worrying over nothing.” Donatello whispered back.

Leo sighed, a small smile on his lips. “Knowing you big bro, the damage wasn’t all that physical. I know you hate the attention, but we’re all coping in our own way. Being there for eachother is just one of those ways to feel a sense of connection with each other. That we’re not alone. You’re not the only one Donald.”

Donatello let himself melt into his brother, finally feeling the anxiety begin to ebb. “I shouldn’t have yelled at them. I just...hate feeling like this.”

Leo laughed, “Everybody hates feeling powerless bro, they understand.”

Don pulled away, quirking a brow at his usually fairly prideful brother. “Even you?”

Leo looked away, a sad yet knowing expression on his face. “Yeah man, even me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draxum needs to take a vacation so we can have more brother bonding episodes. I was kinda sad when I realized that the Tales of the Hidden City were solo stories of the boys. At least we got those goofy moments from the Clothes Don't Make the Turtle.

**Author's Note:**

> When are we going to get that Leonardo and Donatello disaster twin episode, huh??


End file.
